Two Doctors in the TARDIS
by I Worship Steven Moffat
Summary: My first x-over. It's been a few weeks since Sherlock died and John's therapist has instructed him to write in his blog. One day, a funny-looking man shows up on the doorstep of 221B and changes John's life forever.
1. The Personal Blog of Dr John H Watson

The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson

day one

**It's been a few weeks since the incident. Since Sherlock…well. I think we all know what Sherlock did. My therapist says I should talk about it—or rather, blog about it. I don't see how that can possibly help, but I suppose I'm willing. I don't know if anyone still reads my blog. But if anyone is there, if anyone wants to listen, then do. Because there's one thing I want to get straight.**

**I believe in Sherlock Holmes.**

**0 comments**

day two

**I went to the shops today. Mrs. Hudson's birthday is coming up, and I thought maybe I could surprise her. I didn't end up getting anything. There were newspapers all over with his face on and because I'm a bloody coward, I could not face it. The truth. Because, if anyone's here, if anyone's listening, if anyone does not know the truth…**

**Sherlock's dead.**

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day three

**I haven't been on here in a while. I suppose that's cheating. I don't think I care, though. Yesterday I talked to Detective Inspector Lestrade. Well, he came over to my flat. He invited Molly, too, but I suppose she wasn't up to it. She loved him. I think we all did. Except maybe Sally.**

**1 comment**

Hang in there, John.

**Detective Inspector Lestrade** 11 April 20:13

day four

**The press have finally stopped knocking at the door. I suppose they wanted an interview. I think eventually Mrs. Hudson broke down and shouted them out. Bless her. I don't know what to write about. Maybe I should be talking about my feelings. I don't think I have many feelings left, to be honest. Except maybe sadness. And anger. But mostly sadness.**

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day five

**It's Mrs. Hudson's birthday today. She doesn't want to celebrate, but I went to the shops and got her a cupcake and a box of chocolates. If Sherlock were here, he would have given her something stupid. She would have loved it anyway. He might've played her a song on his violin. I don't think he's played anything in a while, though.**

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day six

**I've been going through Sherlock's stuff today. There's a stash of about seven skulls. I don't think I'll throw out his violin. It looks nice. It looked better on him, though. Detective Inspector Lestrade showed up again today. Molly was with him, but she stayed downstairs with Mrs. Hudson. I don't think she really wants to face it, either.**

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day seven

**Mycroft came over. He didn't seem very upset, but I suppose Mycroft manages to hide his feelings behind a mask of government officials and money. He did stop by at the funeral, to pay his respects, but he didn't stay long. He offered to compensate me for the service, but I didn't let him. Sherlock was my best friend, not some very distant relative.**

**0 comments**

day eight

**I found an old apple under his old seat today. Wasn't a core or anything. The weird thing is that it's just got an engraving on it—'I O U'. I don't know what it's from or why it was there, but then again, I don't know much of what happened here when I was out.**

**1 comment**

Oh, very good, John. Very well done indeed.

**Anonymous** 16 April 15:39

day nine

**There was a strange man at the door today. Funny kit, too. He was wearing a bow-tie and suspenders, and a tweed jacket! Weird hair—fringe all floppy, like kids have got these days. He kept muttering something about the 'time vortex', whatever that is. After I asked him what he wanted, he jumped like I'd shocked him and ran off. I watched him go down the street and he went into a big blue box that said 'POLICE' on it. Not sure if he was playing a prank on me, but I suppose it was the most I've gotten up to in weeks.**

**0 comments**


	2. The Doctor

**Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock, Doctor Who, or any of its affiliates. The shows belong only to the writers and BBC. If I did own them, Johnlock would be canon.**

**A/N: Second chapter, wheeee! The chapters are all going to be quite short, sorry. However, that means that I'll be able to upload them quicker! I'm also going to be using this fanfic for NaNoWriMo, so if you want the details on that please private message me. In other news, I'm really quite pleased with how this turned out...please leave a review to tell me what you liked/didn't like about this chapter! Thanks, loves!**

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The Doctor

**The Doctor stepped back inside his TARDIS, frowning slightly. "I could've sworn these were the right coordinates…" he muttered, checking first his watch and then the low-hanging monitor that dangled above the TARDIS console.**

**He scratched his smooth chin and scrunched up his non-existent eyebrows in concentration. Then, with an almighty shout and a jump into the air, he exclaimed, "OH! That's it! I got the _timing_ wrong!" The Doctor leaped around the console, pulling knobs and levers as he went and grinning like an idiot. In just a few seconds the TARDIS was off, spinning like a top through time and space.**

**It landed just a moment later, shuddering to a stop in the exact spot as before, making its trademark wheezing, dying-whale noise. The Doctor popped his head out, tasted the air, and grinned. "Perfect!"**

**He locked the TARDIS doors and jogged over to the door of 221B ****Baker Street****. He rang the bell once and stood back, checking his reflection in the shiny gold mail slot.**

**"Hello?" The voice belonged to a petite woman with wispy brown hair. "Oh, are you here for the doctor, dear? Just a tick. I'll go and get him for you." She smiled kindly and closed the door, calling something up a flight of rickety stairs.**

**The Doctor raised one non-existent eyebrow, thoroughly bamboozled. "The Doctor? The _Doctor_? Doctor who?" he asked himself, looking puzzled. A minute later the door opened again to reveal a man shorter than the Doctor, with hair cut close to his head.**

**"It's you!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger accusingly at the Doctor's chest. "That nutter that showed up last week!"**

**"Er, yes. I am 'that nutter', as you ****put it. How're things? Good? Fine? Nothing…strange? Paranormal? Good, good. That's good. Great, in fact! Might I see your upstairs? Department of…House…Checking…? Here's my card."**

**He fumbled around in his jacket for a minute before finding his psychic paper, which he then gave to Doctor Watson. John studied it, frowning, before he let a small smile curve his thin lips. "Psychic. I was a soldier. You can't fool me with this. But—what the hell. Sherlock would've let you in, so I will too. Come on." He led the Doctor up the narrow staircase and into a nice sitting room.**

**Well, it _would've_ been nice, had there not have been piles and piles of scientific things and books lying about in heaps. "Well, this is…cosy," the Doctor remarked, smiling and clapping his hands together.**

**"Was there anything specific you wanted to inspect?" asked John, placing his hands on his hips and looking around.**

**"Oh, no, not really. Do you by any chance know someone by the name of…Sherlock Holmes?"**

**John blanched. "No. Well, I did, but, uh…no. Not anymore. He's, um, he's gone now. He's—he's dead."**

**The Doctor's eyes flickered down, and John was astonished to see that they were full of tears. "Oh," he whispered. "So that's how I got the distress call. Your, um, your mind. You sent out a distress signal with your mind. My psychic paper detected it and brought me here. Sherlock's an old friend. I'm sorry. I'm…so sorry." He grasped John's shoulder for a moment, smiling sadly.**

**"You…knew Sherlock? He never mentioned you." John couldn't tear his gaze away from his—the Doctor's—eyes, so old in a face that was too young. He recognised it. He saw it every time he looked in a mirror. This man had seen war and too much of it.**

**"No, he wouldn't have. How did it happen?" asked the Doctor, his voice cracking on the word 'it'.**

**"It's a long story," sighed John, sitting down heavily in his armchair.**

**"Time…that's irrelevant," said the Doctor, chuckling slightly. He sat down across from John in a comfortable leather chair and crossed his gangly legs. He vaguely noticed a shadow cross the other man's face, but it soon passed.**

**"Good. It's going to be a while. Now, I met Sherlock Holmes about 19 months ago…"**

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**The Doctor gaped at John. "He-"**

**"Yes."**

**"But it was because of Moriarty, right? He didn't just kill himself on a whim?"**

**"I believe that it was caused by Moriarty, yes. He seemed—I dunno—odd. Sherlock, I mean. Moriarty was downright insane. But he called me on my mobile, and said that he was a fake. The newspapers were trying to sell that, but I of course didn't believe him. He said that it was his note. And the last thing he said was 'goodbye'."**

**The Doctor sighed. "You said Moriarty _was_ crazy. He's dead? Or he's not crazy anymore?"**

**"Dead. They didn't find the body, but there was a gun and plenty of real blood that certainly wasn't a match for Sherlock. So, how did you know Sherlock, anyway?"**

**"We met a long time ago. He travelled with me for a bit, but it was too much. He started to disprove everything with logic and science and left. I just wanted to pop by and see him, but I suppose…I suppose that's not going to happen."**

**"S'pose not," murmured John, rubbing his forehead wearily.**

**The Doctor stood. "Would you like to save him, John?" he asked gently.**

**John looked up, startled. "What do you mean, 'save him'?"**

**"We can, you know. It would alter some events, but I'm fairly certain that it wouldn't destroy the planet. Well, not _certain_, exactly, but there's a fair chance it won't blow up this galaxy. So, do you want to?"**

**"Is this some kind of crazy test? To see if I was worthy of him? Because…I do. No one should be brought back from the dead like that, but I don't think Sherlock counts as a person. He's going to kill me, mind. But yes…I do want to save him. It was at St. Bart's, not too far away. He was on the roof. Er, how exactly are we _going _to save him?" John asked.**

**The Doctor grinned at him. "You'll see."**

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**A/N: I know, I know. ANOTHER ONE! But I just wanted to say HAPPY HAAAALLLOOOOWWWEEEEEEEEEENNN NNN! Have a great day(:**


	3. Two Doctors in the TARDIS

**Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock, Doctor Who, or any of its affiliates. The shows belong only to the writers and BBC. If I did own them, Johnlock would be canon.**

**A/N: Wow, I'm on a roll! :3 Just kidding. I like this chapter cos you sort of get a look into what it might've been like for Sherlock to have travelled with the Doctor. There are some depressing bits, sorry...Please leave a review telling me what you liked/didn't like and what I can do to improve! Thanks (:**

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Two Doctors in the TARDIS

**"Are you positive that this will work?"**

**The Doctor didn't answer John's query, but merely led him over to the strange little blue box.**

**"Er…what're we stopping for? Bart's isn't inside the box, is it?" John asked.**

**"No, no, of course not. Just open the door. Go on!" The Doctor was grinning at John strangely, but he went inside anyway.**

**"Oh."**

**"I _know_!" The Doctor followed him inside and shut the door behind himself, still grinning like a slightly deranged wildcat. "Bigger-" he threw his hands in the air "—on the inside!"**

**John cleared his throat and sat down in the leather chair attached to a thin metal rail. "Oh."**

**"It'll only be a moment, but you'll want to hang on!" The Doctor shouted, grabbing the hanging monitor and slamming his fist down on an enormous red button. The TARDIS was off, dematerialising from ****Baker Street**** with the trademark noise.**

**"So is this a spaceship or something?" John asked, looking very uncomfortable with his surroundings. The Doctor peered around the enormous console at him.**

**"Yes! She's called the TARDIS—Time And Relative Dimension In Space! Lovely old girl, isn't she? Nicked her off—I mean, I got her when I was just a kid, about 200 years old. She can go to any place in the universe, and any time you want."**

**"Yeah, but—why is it a police telephone box? Doesn't it get noticed? I mean, I thought they had these back in the sixties."**

**"Well, I landed in the sixties and she disguised herself as a police box, but then the chameleon circuit got stuck and she hasn't been able to change to anything different. I _could_ fix it, I suppose, but I quite like her the way she is, don't you?" The Doctor rubbed the console lovingly, sparing a quick smile for John.**

**"Well, yeah, I mean, sure. I just thought, because they don't have those anymore, don't people stare, try to open it, stuff like that."**

**"Oh, no, no. Because nowadays, if you see a thing, what do you do? Walk right past it. You just sort of go 'oh, it's a thing'. Ah, here we are! Hold on tight—I'm landing her!"**

**The Doctor yanked back a huge lever and gripped the side of the console for support. John made a grab for the metal railing a split second too late and was unseated by the horrid rocking of the TARDIS.**

**He managed to cling to the underside of the console and after it stopped, he stood up, gasping. "Is…is it always like this?" he panted.**

**The Doctor grinned at him. "Yes."**

**"I can see why he liked it," huffed John, following him out of the blue box.**

**When they exited the TARDIS, he looked around in puzzlement. "Er, Doctor, this isn't where we need to be. Bart's is about a half a mile to the north of here."**

**The Doctor raised one 'eyebrow'. "Really? Huh. Must be a glitch with the matrix. Let's go back inside and I'll fix her up."**

**"Actually, would it be okay if I stayed out here while you fix it? I just need some time to…think." John sat down on a nearby bench and rubbed his forehead wearily.**

**The Doctor's grin faded. "Er, yes, of course. Um, I'll come and get you when I'm done. Just…don't wander off, please. Usually something bad ends up happening when they do that."**

**John looked up, distracted from the current situation by the sorrow laced through the Doctor's words. "'They'?"**

**"I…I've had companions. They travel with me, but they all end up leaving. One, Rose…I lost her. She ended up in a parallel universe. And another, Donna, she became a Time Lord like me and I had to erase myself from her timeline. It's…hard to explain. But, anyway, I'd better go and fix the TARDIS." The Doctor sighed and went back into the police box, running his hands through his messy brown hair.**

**John contemplated what had just been said. The Doctor apparently had had previous companions, and they had all left him, just like Sherlock. Sherlock had travelled with this mad, go-lucky Doctor fellow…John couldn't believe it. He let out a small, humourless laugh at the irony of it all.**

**Sherlock, his best friend who acted more like a robot than a human, who disproved everything except what was most important at that precise moment—usually his own experiments—and despised emotional attachments. John then came to the sudden realisation that he was like that because it became too much for him. Travelling with the Doctor, seeing strange planets and aliens.**

**At that precise second, the Doctor popped his head out of the odd blue box. "All fixed and ready to go, if you are, John."**

**"Yeah, I'm ready. But, Doctor…how many people have travelled with you?" John stood, looking straight into the old, old eyes of the goofy-looking man standing in front of him.**

**"A lot. Some left me. Some got left behind. And some…not many, but…some died." The Doctor glanced away at the last word, blinking away tears. Then he cleared his throat, sniffed, and jumped back into the TARDIS. "Come on, John. We've got a high-functioning sociopath to save."**

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**A/N: I know, it's short. But they're all going to be, because that way I can update more! In Chapter Four: John and the Doctor race to save Sherlock's life, but will he let them? And what will he say when he discovers that his old friend has returned for him? It's all coming up! I'll upload chapter four on Sunday. Until then, keep deducing!**


	4. Sherlock Holmes Had a Great Fall

**Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock, Doctor Who, or any of its affiliates. The shows belong only to the writers and BBC. If I did own them, Johnlock would be canon.**

**A/N: First off: I'M SORRRYYYY! I meant to upload on Sunday but I hadn't gotten anything done and yesterday I wasn't feeling super inspired! I made sure to put Johnlock feels in this one, so let me know if you caught them! Please leave a review telling me what you liked/didn't like and what I can do to improve! Thanks (:**

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Sherlock Holmes Had a Great Fall

**Sherlock was bracing himself for the fall when he heard it. _No_, his mind whispered. _No, it can't be him. The Doctor is gone, because you left him._ And yet the sound didn't stop. That dying-whale racket that made Sherlock want to hit something.**

**He turned and there he was. John. "Sherlock…" he whispered, coming out of the TARDIS.**

**"John, wh—what are you doing here? How—When—The-" Sherlock stammered, trying to find the right words. Then the Doctor stepped out, looking down. His stupid fringe flopped over one eye, making him look like a little kid that got caught stealing candy.**

**"Why did you bring him here?" Sherlock asked, anger coating every word.**

**The Doctor glanced up. "Well, I wanted—we wanted—to save you."**

**"You can't, all right? I have to do this! I have to die! Take him back, take him away!" Sherlock turned his back on them and went back to the ledge. The Doctor pulled John back into the TARDIS, murmuring something in his ear that Sherlock could not overhear. John glanced back at Sherlock as he went, but he went inside anyway.**

**Sherlock made sure they were gone before he pulled out his mobile phone and dialled in a number—the last one he would ever dial and the last time he would ever dial it.**

**"Hello?" John asked, sitting down on the same leather chair as before.**

**"John. Go back. Go back to whatever time you came from, and forget me."**

**"Sher—Sherlock, what the hell are you saying? Did I do something wrong? Why are you killing yourself?"**

**Sherlock took a deep breath, tears threatening to make an unscheduled appearance. "This is an apology, John. It's all true."**

**"Sherlock, you told me that, you—you said that the newspapers were right and you invented Moriarty. Stop it, stop it now, all right?"**

**The Doctor was on the other side of the console, invisible to John, with his hands covering his face. He was breathing in short, painful gasps and tears were leaking through his long, long fingers. He knew the conversation because he was there, just out of reach, when it happened.**

**"John, I'm a fake."**

**"No, Sherlock, no you're not. I've been through this once and you're not going to do it to me again. You—you can't just die. You can't. I've watched you die once, I can't watch it again. Please. Please, just _tell_ me why this is happening. Please, Sherlock, for me."**

**"I can't. John, just please leave! If I tell you he'll kill you. Just go!"**

**"Sherlock, I'm not leaving. Not for you, not for anyone. Now tell me." John's voice was angry and assertive and Sherlock sighed.**

**"If I tell you will you go?"**

**"Doubtful, but if you don't tell me I might punch you in the face. Sherlock, you can't just tell me to leave without even giving me an explanation! This isn't right, and it's not like you."**

**"Fine, I'll tell you. But you have to promise me that afterwards you will get in that box with the Doctor and leave. I need to die, John. I just—I need to."**

**"Okay, okay, I'll leave after you explain. Can I come outside now, or am I still in timeout?" John asked.**

**"You can come outside."**

**John stood and stretched his legs before storing his mobile back in his jacket. "Doctor, I'm going to go and talk to Sherlock. Er...are you crying?"**

**The Doctor looked up, sniffling slightly. "Oh, no. I accidentally pulled my hair and my eyes are watering. No, no, I'm fine. Um, you go on. I'll just wait here, shall I?"**

**"Um, okay. I'll let you know what happens." John walked out, feeling slightly baffled. Sherlock turned to look at him, his pale face almost luminescent in the blinding sunlight.**

**"Sherlock."**

**"John, I...I have to commit suicide. It would be perfect, don't you see? Moriarty can prove that I'm a fake and there's nothing to be done. And if I don't die—which is absolutely out of the question, so don't try to talk me out of it—well, he has people. People who can kill you, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, everyone. All of my friends, all of the people who I am close to. That's why you have to leave here; that's why the Doctor brought you here, so that you can understand.**

**"Because I can't survive, John, not if I want to keep you alive."**

**John made a few attempts to speak before he finally succeeded. "Sherlock, that—I don't—It's not—Dying isn't an option for you, not here! You don't understand how many times I've had to watch people die. A lot of them died under my care, because I wasn't quick enough or I didn't have the right medicine, and that can't happen here! I don't care, I _don't care _if I die! People will get over it, and they'll recover. But if you die, I—I watched you die, Sherlock! I can't do that all over again!"**

**He was crying now, and was sagging against the TARDIS with his hands covering his eyes. Sherlock gently pried his fingers away with his own long, ghostly white ones. He didn't say a word, merely pulled his friend into his arms and held him. John's hands, which were clenched into fists, were balled up in the scratchy but comforting wool fabric of Sherlock's overcoat.**

**"I have to, you know. Eventually. You can't...you can't just die for me, John. You know that, don't you?" Sherlock whispered. John made a disagreeable grunting noise and pulled away, grumbling something about prats that make a total fool out of someone.**

**Sherlock laughed. It was sharp, almost like a bark, and wasn't intended to be humorous. "What a fickle world we live in, don't you agree, John? There are whole planets and galaxies and alien races out there and we're stuck with this one."**

**John didn't really understand what Sherlock meant, but he nodded his agreement anyway. In matters like this, Sherlock was usually right. "Have you seen any?" he asked.**

**"Any what?"**

**"Planets and galaxies and alien races. Have you seen any? With him, with the Doctor?"**

**Sherlock sighed. "Yes, but that's not the-"**

**"Not the point? Yes, Sherlock, it bloody well is the point! I've known you for, what, going on 19 months? And yet you've never even mentioned this Doctor fellow, who just happens to show up on the doorstep of 221B and who just so incidentally knew you and travelled with you! Sherlock, if you're going to kill yourself—which is never going to happen, by the way—I would like some answers! Stop being so cryptic and give them to me!"**

**Sherlock stepped back, shocked at this outburst. "Calm down, John."**

**"Calm down? Calm _DOWN_!? You calm down, Sherlock Holmes! You try living like this, because I can guarantee that you wouldn't make it through to tomorrow! I'm sick and tired of playing all of your damn games!" John was getting angrier by the second and had backed Sherlock up to the ledge. When he finished his rant, he was left with silence that was only punctuated by the heaving breaths he soon realised were emanating from his own mouth.**

******"I'm sorry, John."** **Sherlock raised his hands in surrender and moved away from the ledge. "I met the Doctor ten years ago. I wasn't much of a consulting detective, but I was still extremely interested in science. I was walking past Bart's and I saw the TARDIS—but at the time, I just thought of it as a nondescript blue box. But then I saw a man coming out—he wasn't the same Doctor that's in it now. He was more...normal. He said that he was a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, the last of his kind, and that he could take me anywhere in the universe at any time.**

**"I was sceptical at first, like I imagine you were, but as he talked, I started to listen. I wanted a break, I wanted to travel with this odd man who stole a time machine and ran off into the stars. So I did. I saw amazing things, John. I met William Shakespeare and Marie Curie and Queen Elizabeth I. I fought the Daleks, and the Cybermen, and I went to a planet that was literally made up of a library. And it was amazing, and beautiful, but after a while I got tired of all of the running. I had learned and seen so much, and the Doctor was wonderful, but I knew that I would never be able to live like he did. So I left him, John. I was heartless and cruel, and I remained that way until I met you."**

**John, who had been listening intently, was startled to realise that Sherlock had finished his monologue. "I...wow."**

**"Wow, indeed," murmured Sherlock. "So you've got your answers. You have to leave now, John."**

**"No way! Don't even bother thinking I'm leaving now. Sherlock, I'm not going to let you die just for me! I'm not—you can't just do something like that!"**

**"Like I said a long time ago, John—I don't have friends. I only have one."**

**John stood up angrily. "Do you think I'm willing to let you die for me? Because I'm not, Sherlock! I have nothing, _nothing_ without you! I've told you about ten times, and I'll tell you again: I'm not leaving you!"**

**Sherlock stood up as well. "Goodbye, John." He stepped onto the ledge and took one last, lingering look at the horror-struck face of Dr. John Hamish Watson.**

**He jumped.**

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**A/N: Did I make you cry? I hope so...wow. That sounded sort of sinister. Anyway, make sure to leave a review! Thanks everyone. Oh, and happy Election Day. If Mitt Romney is elected President, I will be moving to either Canada or the UK.**


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